Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1887-11-17
ROGER LAROQUE.
Adapted and Translated from the French
Of Jules Mary.
BIZ OLIVE HARPER

"Sir,n continued Julia, she is poor. but he
has talent and honor His father was one OF
the best lawyers in France, and Raymond in
herits his ability. You must have heard Of
his father, NJ. Forney. His name was Lucien
De Noirville."
II think have heard his name" said Roger
painfully. 9There was something, think, in
the papers about-somo troublesome poig-
nant"--
"You have heard that theni" said Julia in a
constrained voice.
"Did lie not die in the midst OF an address
TO the jury, in the interest Of q friend accused
of robbery, think followed by assaSsi-
nation--a friend and brother in arms, whom
he believed innocentp
"He was innocent, that friend He was,
indeed"s
"What became OF this manl He was con.
demned, was he notF
ayes, but most unjustly; and he was killed
year or so afterward while trying to escape
from the galleys."
Her head dropped, and she would have
fallen to tho floor without his aid.
at is nothing; slight giddiness There
are some recollections that are very painful
In every life" said she. There was a silence
of some moments. Then she resumed:
$50 you will not accord me the happiness
Of my sonl"
He made no answer. He was passing In re-
view all that dreadful past with its tragic
history. He tried to think whether he would
not lie in some sort repairing his wrong
toward Lucien if he gave his only child to
Luciens son. Strange fatality that brought
Julia to his feet to supplicate the happiness of
her best loved son at his hands Was he not
in honor bound to give his sole treasure into
the keeping OF another's hands, smotherine
his own grief, to restore a little brightness in
the home he had left desolatei He decided
and his nervous march ceased, and he stood
before Julia with his face set and white, as
must have been those OF the saints and
martyrs
st shall be as my daughter desires" And
then he sent a servant to bring Suzanne to
him.
Suzanne" said he, "can you divine the
reason for which have called your
~ am sure l cannot" answered she, trying
to smile unconcernedly.
Consult your heart, my child. Is there
anything you desirep
Nothing, father, but your love-"
She knew now, and felt that the battle she
had fondly supposed ended had but begun.
| And then she continued:
II do not quite seize your meaning; but ]
have no secrets from you, and want nothing
| that you cannot give me-"
Suzanne, Mme De Noirville has come here
today to ask my consent to your marriage
with her son Raymond. have told her that
1t should be for you to decide. What do you
answer?D
81 have told you often, father, that do
not wish to marry. / have not changed my
mind
II shall not always bs with you, my child
may die, and you will be left alone without
protection or friends
II have told you, father, never wish to
marry
"Tell me, my dear child, do you love any
one elses Be perfectly frank with me. If
there is another whom you love in your heart,
tell your father, my DEAR
| ooh, father, that is most unkindi never
loved any one as well Gs do you, and / never
shall. Please say no more about 1t, for shall
never change
There was such al accent of determination
in this that Rogers thoughts few back
instantly to the time when this child had
maintained in the face of everything that she
"Snew nothing; saw nothing" and he gave
up the attempt to alter her decision
"This is strange" said her father.
Mime. de Noirville, desperate, thought Of
Raymond. rs this your last words Have
you no pity even for him. for his mother.
whose happiness is bound up in hisr'
II am truly sorry" said Suzanne, "but
cannot change my resolution, which has been
taken long since"
Julia returned home with her heart in a
tumult She had failed. Pierre took her
melancholy air as the death blow to his hopes,
and only asked hoarsely:
"Wenr
"She loves another"
No one saw him again that night. Ray
mond did not know what had taken place
for several days after.
After Julia had gone Roger thought TO
himself: "Who can tell what is in a young
girls heart!" and he was vaguely uneasy for
two reasons One was he feared she had
loved some one in America, and hiding that
love in her heart was bound to suffer in 81
lence all her life, for he knew the quiet per-
sistency OF her character; and the other
thought was that she might not have forgot.
ten that awful time, and that she felt that
all doors to happiness were closed to her for
over. But how to discoverl How dared he
break the silence?
Still he could question her more fully, more
tenderly and alone. Perhaps she would tell
him, but no, the answer was always the
same. She loved no one SO well as he, and
she was determined to never marry
Almost out of patience with her, he at last
said, brusquely: Keep your secret. We
will speak 10 more of marriage, but / may
say that you have bitterly disappointed me; y
and lie left her with her eyes full Of tears and
| xrl, fcl, ha cd ,Ok IN
| see.
| Tho lives of all in the two families contin-
ued the same for few days without new
incident Father and daughter avoided each
/ other as much as it was possible, and when
they were together there was no allusion
made to the demand of Nine de Noirville,
| though their thoughts ran often upon the
subject
Mime. de Noirville had finally told Ray
mond of the step she had taken, and at first
he was inclined to reproach her for her I'M
fortunate errand, undertaken without his
1 knowledge. The answers of Suzanne to her
fathers questions aroused in him the demon
of jealousy, and at last he could bear no
more. II must know, must know, he cried
and rushed off through the woods and into
the park, in the blind hope of finding her who
filed his thoughts. Nowhere in the park
| could he find Suzanne, and half himself he
approached the house, feeling that alone and
! single handed he could storm a fortress for
the sake of seeing her. Drawn by invisible
attraction, he went to the large green house
| where Suzanne was walking listlessly among
| the plants He reached her side and held
| out his hands in silence She saw that his
face was drawn and haggard with suffering.
/ and her whole heart cried out for him, and
she gave him her hand.
Suzanne! Suzannel l have had horrible
thoughts / could bear them no longer. What
| is this obstacle between US? have right to
know. Your silence leaves me in the black
shadow of doubt; and forgive me, Suzanne,
/ think such dreadful things-such things as
| you cannot imagine. They are worse to bear
i than tho truth would be, no matter what it
| is l pray you, Suzanne, on my knees, tell
me what it is that stands between us,
/ and will bear it brayely if it must be borne;
| but, obi tell me. Save my mind from such
/ agonizing torture as your silence imposes
upon me with its unworthy doubts"
raymond said Suzanne at last, wiping
away with her own handkerchief the beads
| of sweat that stood out on his forehead as be
knelt before her-"Raymond, you suffer
much, and pity you with all my heart.
/ will tell you. You have the right to ask me
/ 70 lay bare my secret, though it is not in
reality mine, but another's."
~Then hush, Suzanne Forgive me. no
I longer wish to know"
at i too late said she SIN spite of your